


Dragon Heat

by EffingEden



Category: Hurog - Patricia Briggs
Genre: M/M, Multi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/EffingEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oreg goes into heat - and so does Ward</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dbzlives](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dbzlives).



> Comment_fic prompts, 'Hurog, Ward/Oreg & Tisala, Tisala doesn't mind sharing her husband as long as she gets to watch' and ' Hurog, Oreg(/Ward/Tisala), sometime Oreg is afraid his life with Ward and Tisala is a dream and he'll wake up back in the nightmare'

He had thought the scent of dragons in heat was his own private hell to endure. A luscious, syrupy hell. Only the first dozen or so Hurogmeten had been affected to any degree.

The fact that Ward was lost in it perplex him. Oreg deduced a dragon in rut used both scent and magic to attract a mate - Ward was too thin-blooded to pick up the scents rolling down the mountain, but he was the first Hurog mage in centuries, and the first Hurogmeten to wear that enraptured expression since then, too.

He wondered whether to disclose the information to Ward, but he held back, smirking slightly whenever he saw Tisala rumpled and glowing. He knew it couldn’t be the distant females – they were too far away, too interested in their mates to waste energy seducing the Hurogmeten from afar.

No, the only dragon ‘in range’ as it were, was him, Oreg. That Ward was reacting to Oreg’s magic suggested Ward didn’t just think of him as a brother.

A few days later, and Ward’s eyes were following him everywhere. He became clumsy, stuttering. If Oreg came too close, said something only mildly suggestive, Ward’s face would show confusion and desire before he’d excuse himself and retreat, the way he walked telling of his reasons.

“All right, that’s it,” snarled Tisala after Ward had retreated for the forth time in one day. “I don’t know what’s going on between you, but it stops, now.”

Oreg bristled at her command and he turned his cool gaze on her. “Can you control your instinct to breathe? Believe me, that task is just as easy as controlling what passes between Ward and I, child.”

She only blinked before she smirked and waved a hand in dismissal. “I meant, stop it the other way, brat. He’s not getting any work done like this, and exhausting me. Do us both a favour, Oreg.”

He tilted his head. “You would… allow Ward and I to… satisfy each other? Carnally? I ask as I would hate to misunderstand and wake up impaled on your sword.”

She chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough. Yes, take my place in our marriage bed – on the condition that I may watch.”

Oreg smiled brilliantly and bowed. “My lady… I think we should discover where your husband has fled so we may begin our entertainment.”

She took his arm, and together went in search of the hapless Hurogmeten.

>

Ward was often careful with his strength, so careful and gentle like he might shatter the whole world if he let himself use half his strength, so it was a surprise to his dragon and his wife when his control, undermined by Oreg’s sensual magic, broke.

There was such a violence and demand about the way Ward pulled Oreg’s clothes off, not caring how they tore. For a few, teetering moment Oreg felt like a slave again at the whims of his Master – but then hot, damp lips pressed to his forehead, then cheek, jaw, neck. A rain of gratitude washing away the momentary panic of hungry hands. Those hands were still moving, but so was Ward’s mouth, tongue and teeth tasting, teasing.

Ward shed his own clothes as he backed Oreg towards the bed, dropped carelessly to mark their trail.

Callous rough hands pressed him down, an urgent knee spreading his legs. Finally Ward’s mouth locked on Oreg’s, tasting him with deep thrusts of his tongue, encouraging the dragon to participate. Oreg moaned softly as his shaft was stroked until his hips bucked up, craving more. Then Ward’s fingers quested lower, slipping into the already oiled ring of muscle.

The Hurogmeten hummed. “You knew I’d agree, so you prepared yourself?”

Oreg squirmed as Ward worked his finger in and out, and said in a strained, breathless voice, “I had –” He gasped as a second finger was added, “-some help…”

“Only seemed right to offer him a little help,” murmured Tisala, who was seated close-by, eyes following her husband’s movement while mimicking it with one hand slid under her own skirts.

“I think it would have been fair if I had been allowed to watch that!” Ward mockingly complained, his third finger making Oreg whimper and arch.

As if the sound had destroyed the last part of his control, Ward pulled his hand away and grasped Oreg’s hips, lifting him up so his whole back curved off the mattress, his slender body supported by his shoulders and tiptoes, his arms splayed out at his sides, fingers clawing into the sheets. Ward pierced him with one smooth, powerful thrust, grunting in satisfaction as his whole length was sheathed in his dragon’s lithe body.

Oreg gasped at the sudden entrance, panting as swift as a snared rabbit.

“I’ve heard that there is something inside a man very much like a woman’s pearl. Thrust into him again Ward, at a different angle. I’m curious to know it it’s true.”

The Hurogmeten pulled himself almost all the way out, altered his angle and thrust again, just as hard and as deep. Air rushed out of Oreg’s lungs in a swift huff, but held back his cry again. Ward tried again, and again – then found it. Oreg gave a cry, his whole body giving a jerk. Ward’s hands tightened, and he was pulling out when Oreg said quickly, “No, you found it, that’s it – don’t stop, don’t stop!”

It was brief and feral and savage, and it was as much for him as it was for Ward or Tisala.

Afterwards, he tried to excuse himself, but it was Tis that wouldn’t let him leave, insisting he sleep in their bed with them. Husband and wife fell asleep in one another’s arms, leaving Oreg to listen to their deep breathing, a different sort of fear clutching him, for surely this was too perfect to be real.


End file.
